


Dearly Conquered

by Serendipintea



Series: Female Stiles Stilinski [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Gore, Viking AU, Viking Peter Hale, Violence, mature themes, shield maiden Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serendipintea/pseuds/Serendipintea
Summary: “Fear not, Petr, you are most favored by the Gods, your Valkyrie is coming.”He had thought that the slave girl had meant he was going to die, that he would be escorted to Valhalla.“What is your name?” her smile reminded him of a wolf snarling.“Mieczysława,” she greeted, sending gooseflesh up his arms at the way it rolled off of her tongue.“Mieczysława.” he hummed. "I would have you."
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Female Stiles Stilinski [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539316
Comments: 3
Kudos: 353
Collections: Steter_love





	Dearly Conquered

She looked beautiful in blood. That was the first thing he had noticed about her, screaming out in battle lust as bodies lay mangled at her feet. The second thing was that she brandished two short swords and no shield, an odd choice of weapons for a woman as it required strength to be able to wield both as effectively as she was. 

The next, was her voice. Smooth, yet not light, almost like water as it ran over the roofs of their homes in kattegat. 

“FOR PÉTR OF HALE!!” was her call, and the blood of Christians answered. The calling of blood was a song Pétr knew intimately, it was a song many thought they knew but sung in a key lower. Not her, no she was on the same key as him, she was singing the right tune. 

He felt, in that instant, drawn. More so when he saw her stained in red, skin and hair, teeth and clothes, blade and soul. She was completely and utterly enveloped in sin, and he wanted it. 

He wanted her.

By the gods he wanted everything about her, he wanted to possess her body and soul, in this life and the next. He had only felt inklings of this fire underneath his skin, of the echoing call throughout his entire  _ being _ . Yet he was a flame, burning in the endless fires of Helheim, just within reach of sweet sin, but never to taste. 

It was  _ agony _ . 

Then she was at his side, kneeling with her shoulders hunched like a wolf, teeth bared as a positively feral growl escaped her lips. 

“Wait!” he had heard Brúnn scream, telling the approaching forces to stop, leaving all to stare at the two of them that had the entire Christian army still in fear at the heathens before them. Brúnn never got to tell the forces to continue, in his stead the feral blood maiden screamed “FOR ODIN, FOR PÉTR!” and threw one of her blades to the side, using the momentary distraction to charge ahead and vault over one of the shields, sword parrying the blow of a spear. 

The third thing; rain did not wash away the blood on her, as if the Gods were showing Pétr that this woman was his. His, blood soaked battle glory and all. 

“Retreat!” the Christians screamed. “Retreat!” and move they did, ran until the only thing he could see was her standing atop a pile of corpses, two swords back in her hands. She threw her head back, exposing a throat he wanted to covet, and let out a victory scream that his chest answered. 

Thor struck his mighty hammer across the sky, rocking the very earth with the power of his blasts, thunder responding to her cry. 

She disappeared at a call and did not return to his sights until he was, once again, arguing with Brúnn. 

“Many of us will not be returning with  _ you _ .” was her snarl, a promise. A pledge of allegiance to Pétr of Hale, true Alpha of Hale clan and the rightful leader to the Great Alliance. She glided through the crowd of men twice her size until she was in the middle of the room, several men flanking her left and right, as if they were protecting her. 

_ No, _ he realized with a curl of pride,  _ they are publicly deciding whom to follow. _ There she was, his blood soaked battlemaiden, now bereft of blood but still just as beautiful. She was a vision in the low lit room, pale skin with moles that scattered around her skin as if they desired to be found. Her hair was not up in traditional battle braids - as many other shield maidens had it - and instead let it loose and wild around her face like a beautifully wild mane. 

What truly had the fire re-igniting in his gut was the expanse of swirls and designs tatoo’d into her skin in bright red ink, bordered by the blackest of black inks. Her arms were covered in the intricate designs and he found he wanted to follow the lines and see if they, too, had followed beneath the clothes she wore. 

“You are sworn under me, slave!” Brúnn shouted, knocking him out of his open perusal, in an immediate fury that had been drawn forth faster than Pétr had ever been able to do.

“Incorrect,” a mumble rose from some of the men, whether it was in distaste of him calling her a slave or of her responding back Pétr didn’t pay enough attention to know. “I was sworn by Alecksandar Hale and the former Queen Aadya to the true son of his King’s legacy.” she stepped forward, head swaying like a serpent about to strike with the attention of the whole room. “I’ve met every son of Alecksandar Hale, and only Petr of Hale can be named the True Son.” 

She had the ability to take all the breath from his body with the conviction she had in her words. 

_ “Fear not, Petr, you are most favored by the Gods, your Valkyrie is coming.”  _ He had thought that the slave girl had meant he was going to die, that he would be escorted to Valhalla. 

In truth, he hadn’t minded. However, he still hadn’t done enough, his personal dream hadn’t yet been accomplished. Now, now he knew what she had meant. She was his Valkyrie, the one who would take him into countless battles until he was known all around the world. 

Until his name would never die.

She came to him, later, once Brunn’s forces left (meager as they were), amber eyes alight in a way that said she adored him. He was used to people looking at him that way, he was not used to the challenge that accompanied the adoration in her gold eyes. 

It lit something in his chest aflame. 

“What is your name?” her smile reminded him of a wolf snarling. 

“Mieczysława,” she greeted, sending gooseflesh up his arms at the way it rolled off of her tongue.

“Mieczysława.” he hummed. When her pupils blew wide and she let out a soft exhale that sounded suspiciously close to a moan he rose from his throne and met her gaze, conveying a promise to fulfill every little dirty fantasy that her brain could concoct. “I would have you,” 

“I will not be an at home mother,” she challenged, taking a step towards him. “Should you have me I will be by your side,” another step till he could almost  _ feel _ the heat from her body. “In war,  _ killing _ .” he couldn’t hide his arousal even if he wanted to, the thought of her at his side on the field. Killing again, showing his armies and their enemies that they were conquerors. 

“And when the continent is mine?” she  _ hissed _ when his palm came up and cupped her face, heated skin marking him as a lost man forever. 

“ _ Ours _ .” she corrected, securing his heart for the battle maiden. “When the continent is ours,  _ then  _ you can fill me full of children.” everything was still for a moment longer before it exploded into movement. They were lips and teeth and tongue, nipping and scratching and drawing blood in ways that reflected the darkness that sat within each of them. He had her twice in front of his throne, she had him once on it, and by the time the rest of the world was waking they were reclothing. 

Their marriage happened a week later and was a matter of scandal and merry that was accompanied by a bloody battlefield and yet another victory against the Christian army. It wasn’t unusual for those married to give gifts to their intended. Petr knew this, he knew that many would see him as giving her a gift as a lifelong dedication - he would look to no other to satisfy him - and she would do the same. 

When he gifted her a shield of his making with the spiral of Vendetta and War he felt a warm sort of love. When she gifted him with three wolf pups he knew immediately that he would be with this woman for all his life and after life, wherever they went. 


End file.
